


Teisumas

by ConcreteLolita



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Control Issues, Gen, Lithuania is very polite, Very Very Light Angst, and also Poland has a thing for oreos, and loves numbers, and nice, and toy soldiers, anyway, btw he doesn't even speak ahaha, it's basically about Russia, yay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 23:41:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3915046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConcreteLolita/pseuds/ConcreteLolita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The title means ''justice/rightness'' in lithuanian.<br/>Lithuania wonders if he and the others will ever be able to figure out Mr. Russia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teisumas

Mr. Russia is never bored. There’s always something to do: a meeting to attend, a territory to attach, a presentation to grace with his presence or even one of his weird sisters trying to either run away from or enter forcefully his house.

I, Latvia and Estonia work a lot so as to please him.  
And even after all this time we still don’t understand him.

Not because he speaks Russian, it’s just... those waves of terror that paralyze us as soon as he enters a room must have an explanation.

When I was little, he was too. Very dirty and ragged, he looked rather mistreated and poor. And lonely. And even so incredibly unsettling.  
He grew to be the largest of us and no nation beats him in size (‘’or in anything else!’’, we say to satisfy him)(and to prevent him from getting mean)

I decided I would understand what is going on inside Russia’s head (I also prayed the discovery wouldn’t be very bad for me)

When we have to do the housekeeping, and we decide who gets which room, I end up most of the times with the living rooms and the library since Estonia’s allergy prevents him from cleaning dust and Latvia is too small to reach most of the furniture, which is tall to match its master.  
And so I can, when nobody is watching, browse around Russia’s books: many novels written by Russians, studies on himself and on stuff he enjoys. There are also plenty of diaries he wrote, that basically go ‘’Today I got bigger!’’ and ‘’Today I vanquished XXX! I hope we can be good friends though’’. They are just as intimidating as Mr. Russia himself, and I can hear his creepy laughs in my mind...

In a nutshell, I didn’t learn anything new,

But once, little Latvia called me so I would help him moving some wooden boxes from one of the rooms in the basement to another, with more space and taller walls. The wooden boxes were quite heavy and were sealed by padlocks.  
With some difficulty, Latvia and I managed to pile the 84 boxes in 10 organised and dust-clean rows. My fingers were white and asleep.  
-Look! That one at the top hasn’t got a padlock-said Latvia. I followed his gaze and it was true. One of the 84 boxes wasn’t locked. We exchanged glances for a second and I, shakily, extended my arms to get the box back down.  
Latvia pulled its old lid out and we looked inside. There were 20 tin soldiers. All wearing Russian helmets and long old-fashioned coats, with dull black guns in the right arm. They were perfectly lined up and so, so creepy. As creepy as Mr. Russia. 

I remember having thought I had a double personality disorder that day.  
My first personality screeched loudly, grabbed Latvia and ran across the dark stone underground corridors until he reached the kitchen and drank a hot cup of milk an alarmed Estonia prepared.

84 locked boxes full of tiny soldiers. Mr. Russia is crazy.

My second personality escaped from the servant’s room while the others slept to return to the cold basement, holding very tightly a little plate with a flickering candle. He sat in an old stool and delved into a deep meditating state. He was staring at the open box in the ground, the expressionless soldiers staring back.

Mr. Russia has got a huge army, it’s true. Little tin soldiers are useless to someone like him, so powerful and absolutely not into playing with toys. Perhaps he needed them for something else, like decorations or just because of the symbolism. Maybe...

What are armies needed for? To intimidate... and conquer and all those belligerent things we match him with. But-

And then it hit me right in the brains. I realized it so quickly I gasped aloud and put away the candle’s flame. I forgot my great fear of darkness (especially the Russian house darkness) and concentrated on my brilliant theory.  
Unsafe and fearful people needed something to shield them from the dangers the world offers. The more I picture Russia as someone that needs power so as to not fall to the hands of others the more plausible it seems to me.  
He is so big... too big for someone ordinary to take charge. It’s possible that all the others that used to be free and that now are part of him haunt him like spirits. His big army keeps both, Russia and the ‘’spirits’’, calm and united against the world.  
He only wants more and more because he does not want to be all alone as he used to as a child, constantly hurt by others bigger than him. He doesn’t want to be alone in this big house. And so, he hides in this very sinister aura that comes off him naturally (I suppose...) that doesn’t do him any good, but keeps him altogether and makes him imposing by himself to any other nation.  
Perhaps he got more scarred than I first thought in his childhood. His little past...he keeps the most distance away from the memories as he can, trying to forget that he too was defenceless and despairing once. But really he is so frail.

Frail as a sunflower in the winter snow. Gigantic Mr. Russia.

It is so obvious, nobody needed to see the quantities of little soldiers he kept hidden to get it...thankfully others like Mr. America or Mr. China don’t understand. Yet...

With that strange feeling, looked like a ''when we discover the past of our enemy and we realise the ‘’why?’’ to everything, and that perhaps he isn’t that bad after all'' sensation, I dragged myself back to the servant’s room, grabbing the stone walls hard (because fear of darkness finally took place). Even if feeling very numb, I didn’t sleep much.

The next day, Estonia informed me that Mr. Russia had returned home the last night, and was speaking to his boss, and so we shouldn’t be noisy...  
-...and you don’t look so good. Are you feeling unwell?  
No, not at all, I said. I’m feeling pretty good today, but let’s just stay away from the conference room ,then.

I remembered another time, in that very room, he had decided to attack Poland, my dear friend Poland!...

How did that British saying go? Something like ‘’sticks and stones may break my bones. But words...’’ Words were what hurt the most, I remember.  
What if I told Poland my reflections on Mr. Russia? His weaknesses would be revealed...

And then my butter-made heart spoke: It wouldn’t just lighten the burden that having a secret created, it would hurt the unreachable Mr. Russia, wouldn’t it? It would be a silly deserved revenge... and would that be correct?

I was already holding the black telephone, listening to the waiting ‘’beeps’’, and doubt flood on me.  
No, maybe not, but Mr. Russia- he needs to stop being such a big meanie control freak, and a little country like myself can’t do anything, I must not, someone has to do this scary things for me while I stay watching in the shadows-

-Eh Lithy? So, whatcha want? I was taking a bath with my Oreos, y’kno.

I was very tense. Holding the little phone table so hard my knuckles were almost purple. I felt observed by the world, with the eyes of the house fixed on me and only on me. I was feeling so pressured I even forgot to ask Poland how did he know it was me who was calling.  
Easy, Lithuania, calm down...

-O-oh, Poland, good morning...I ju-just called because...

My voice faltered. The pretty little table and the telephone were both shaking along with my trembling hands.

-Yea cutie, what do you want from me?  
-Oh well, I just...  
-Hey, your voice is kinda rough Lithuania. Finally changing?  
-N-no, it’s nothing, just- look...  
-Yes?  
...  
........  
-Could you please tell me that dragon story again? I’d like to tell it to the others, please?

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, he'd do that. Such a cowardly nice Lithuania I wrote. I got inspired by this hella great book on international relationships: ''Diplomacy'' by Henry Kissinger. Anyway, thank you for reading~  
> And also if I was Lithuania's psychologist I'd recommend the ''go 2 the bathroom and say i'm a boss ass bitch 7 times in a row'' because he needs to trust himself dammit


End file.
